Original subtitles

("Midnight Blues" playing)

CHARLENE: ♪ Got too much time And nowhere to go ♪

♪ But I drink enough to say hello ♪

♪ ♪ But I'm high enough

Not to give a... ♪ LANA: Goddamn it!

CHERLENE: Cut! Okay, whoa!

Cut it, fellas! (music stops)

ARCHER: Man, I am blowing this jug.

CHERLENE: What the hell is wrong with you?

LANA: You are what's wrong with me!

It's 5:50 in the goddamn morning!

CHERLENE: Uh, duh, it's called the golden hour.

LANA: The... PAM: The light takes on a

special quality. LANA: I know what it means,

but... CHERLENE: Then you know it's

the best time to record stuff, so...

LANA: Film! It's the best time to record

things on film! It cannot possibly have any

effect on recording audio. KRIEGER: Oh, was I supposed

to be recording that? CHERLENE: Krieger!

PAM: Goddamn it. (Cherlene growls)

CHERLENE: We're losing the light!

ARCHER: We're not losing me blowing this jug.

MALORY: Are you bothering them?

LANA: I am, and also, happy Opposite Day.

MALORY: Is she bothering you? OTHERS: Yes!

MALORY: Stop bothering them. LANA: They're the ones...

MALORY: They are trying to make a record, Lana, and there

is a finite amount of golden hour.

LANA: Which, again... MALORY: I know, but if

Cherlene's happy... CHERLENE: Outlaw country,

woooooo! (music playing)

MALORY: "Woo," exactly. Then I am happy.

Or at least I will be, once we start selling some records.

LANA: I'll be happy when I can sleep without getting up to

pee every six minutes. MALORY: Pfft, you think

you're not sleeping now? Wait till that thing's born.

LANA: Oh! MALORY: So do yourself and

those bosoms of yours a favor, and get a wet nurse.

LANA: That cannot still be a thing.

MALORY: Preferably one who cooks.

We had a Dominican, just lovely, bosoms like... well, like yours,

but umpteen babies later. My God, Sterling loved her.

She was with us nearly four years.

Now what was her name? I want to say Mariela?

Maricela? Wait, or Ruby?

LANA: I don't... MALORY: The point is, they

steal from you; it's just the cost of doing business.

(Lana sighs) LANA: Steal what?

We haven't been paid in months, Malory; I'm pretty much broke.

MALORY: Join the club. Because believe me, if I had

the money, I would get the hell out of this... Hillbilly Hilton.

KRIEGER: Am I supposed to be recording this?

PAM: Krieger! KRIEGER: Watch it!

CHERLENE: Goddamn it! ARCHER: Whoa!

(jug shattering) Jug down!

Jug down! MALORY: As difficult as that

would be. (Archer sobs)

ARCHER: I'm 'a plant a red fern for ya, jug.

MALORY: Item one: Woodhouse, scrape.

WOODHOUSE: Yes, mum. (all groaning)

MALORY: And gripe all you want, but no one is eating Eggs

Woodhouse until you people start bringing in some money!

ARCHER: But they were already cooked; what good does it do

to throw them away? MALORY: None.

That's the whole point. And no cocaine donuts for you!

PAM (muffled): Aw, come on! I got to load up my body before

Krieger sells it all! ARCHER: Before what?

CHERLENE: What? PAM: Krieger's selling the

cocaine online. MALORY: Are you insane?

KRIEGER: Yeah, if it's insane to use an X-gen asymmetric onion

router and digital cryptocurrency to sell your

cocaine anonymously and completely risk-free.

Ah... Or a lot of the other shit I do.

MALORY: But... so do people e-mail you, or...?

KRIEGER: No. It's like shopping online, only

for cocaine. I've already sold, uh...

Wow, almost 800 grand worth. MALORY: Really?

But how do we get paid? KRIEGER: With a totally

untraceable digital currency that we can exchange for real

U.S. dollars whenever we want. I call 'em Kriegerrands.

MALORY: And then how do they get the cocaine?

KRIEGER: We pack it up and MALORY: Oh, for...

I'll send up some help. And, missy, you had better watch it.

(noisy chewing) ARCHER (mouth full): Jesus,

these taste like calluses. PAM: Ew.

CYRIL: Gross. RAY: That's so accurate.

ARCHER: Lana. Lana.

La...

CHERLENE: What's up her gigantic giant ass?

RAY: Wh... Probably you shitheads!

OTHERS: What did we do? RAY: Besides keeping

everybody up all night with your damn hootenannies...

ARCHER: Wait, that was a hootenanny?

RAY: ...has anybody even thought about throwing her a

goddamn baby shower?! CHERLENE: Ew!

PAM: Um... CYRIL: Pfft, you mean a

bastard sh... Ow! ARCHER: Cyril, shut your

pout-hole, accept the fact that Lana was so far out of your

league that impregnating her would've basically been

interspecies breeding, and get on with your life!

And then go get a cake. Okay, Ray...

MALORY: Ray, Cyril, go help Krieger pack the cocaine.

Cherlene, go pick or grin or something, and the rest of

you... ARCHER: We're throwing Lana

a baby shower. MALORY: Wh...?

We haven't done that yet? I said move, people!

Go, go, go, go, go! (Ray bleats)

Idiots. All right, I need them here

making music and packaging cocaine, so this baby shower is

up to you. Don't cock it up like you did

Texas! PAM: Hey!

MALORY: Oh, blow it out your ass!

(Pam farts) (Archer laughs)

ARCHER: I was hoping you'd do that.

Okay, we should make a list. Item one: some paper to write

said list on. (gasps)

Item two... Woodhouse! Get in here!

WOODHOUSE: Sir? ARCHER: Here, here's...

400 bucks; go get all the stuff for a baby shower: cake,

decorations, some of those water guns shaped like dicks...

PAM: I think that's bachelorette parties.

ARCHER: Really? Wow, okay, that explains...

Uh, never mind. And, Woodhouse,

if you spend any of this on heroin, you better buy enough to

O.D. on, bec... WOODHOUSE: Will do!

ARCHER: Will don't! PAM: Wait, so if Woodhouse is

getting everything we need for the party, then...

ARCHER: Oh, not everything, Pam.

Because... you and I are going to get Kenny Loggins to play

Lana's baby shower. PAM: Goddamn it.

ARCHER: Pam. Danger zone. ♪ Wait, wait, wait, no.

♪ This is it. KRIEGER: Yeah, you guys box

it up, I slap on a mailing label from the printer, bing bang

boom, it's good to go zoom. CYRIL: So, why are we in

our underwear? KRIEGER: Eh, don't worry

about it. PAM: Because it kind of seems

like this is about you and not really about Lana.

ARCHER: Okay, A, Lana loves Kenny Loggins.

PAM: Really? ARCHER: I don't know.

I mean, I assume she does. I do.

GUARD: Whoa, whoa, where you think you're going?

ARCHER: Uh, well, to give Mr. Loggins his wardrobe.

GUARD: Not without a pass you're not.

ARCHER: Yeah, we... PAM: Hey, I appreciate you're

just doing your job, but if Kenny doesn't get this

embroidered hippie shirt and these gigantic bell-bottoms, I

highly doubt you'll have a job tomorrow.

GUARD: Look, he ain't even here.

He's probably still at the Tuntmore.

PAM: Now, was that so hard... neck nuts?

ARCHER: Good instincts back there, Pam.

That's what we field agents call... Hmm.

Guess I'm not a field agent anymore though.

(Pam laughs) PAM: Man, you got to miss it.

What a rush! ARCHER: Yeah, I miss it, but

calm down. Jesus, it's not like you killed

a guy. Taxi!

(car door closes) Okay, so phase two may call for

some field craft. A, there's no way a superstar

like Kenny Loggins is gonna be registered under his own name.

PAM (laughs): Yeah. It's not like he's Messina.

ARCHER: Don't do that. Don't ever do that!

PAM: Sorry! Geez! ARCHER: You should be.

Jim Messina is a genius, and without him, no Poco.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, we'll probably need to

access the computer terminal at reception, so just follow my

lead. PAM: Could I just follow

Kenny Loggins? ARCHER: Wha...?

KENNY LOGGINS: Well, maybe because it's in the rider,

which I'll be happy to come down there and shove up his ass.

ARCHER: Uh, excuse me, Mr.Loggins?

Hi, I'm, uh... KENNY LOGGINS: Uh-huh,

uh-huh, uh-huh. ARCHER: What the shit,

Loggins?! KENNY LOGGINS: Ricky, bad

touch! RICKY: Hands off Mr. Loggins!

ARCHER: Hands off me, Lurch. Look at my suit.

KENNY LOGGINS: Zap, Ricky, zap!

ARCHER: Hey... Aah! (Pam screams)

KENNY LOGGINS: Uh, hang on. Hit him again.

PAM: Wait! No, no, no, no! ARCHER: What?! I...

(grunting gibberish) KENNY LOGGINS: What's that?

No, no, never mind. It's just a fan.

(Archer groans) PAM: Holy shit zaps!

Are you okay? (Archer coughs)

ARCHER: Yeah, and I don't know about you, but

I'm gonna be pretty upset

if I end up having to murder Kenny Loggins.

Meh.

ARCHER: Yeah, that's fair! Kick out the guy whose custom

Super 220 wool suit was ruined by Kenny Loggins!

And where were you during all that?

PAM: Oh, man, I was like, "What?!"

So, what's up? What's the plan? ARCHER: (sighs) The plan is

shut up and come on. GILLETTE: No, we have to play

games at the baby shower. There's Don't Drop the Baby, uh,

Dirty Diaper Game... CYRIL: What in God's name is

the Dirty Diaper Game? GILLETTE: Oh, my God, it's

hilarious. You get a bunch of newborn

diapers, then you microwave different candy bars...

CYRIL: Stop! Yeah, let me just stop you there, because if

you finish that sentence, I'm going to rub cocaine in your

eyes until you are blind. GILLETTE: Goddamn, Shawshank.

LANA: Uh, Malory? (Malory screams)

LANA: What?! MALORY: What... do you want?

Jesus. LANA: I, um...

Okay, so, as you know, or should know, I'm pregnant and...

MALORY: (sighs) Lana, it's too late to...

LANA: Okay, let me stop you. Having the baby-- don't know why

that's such a mindbender for everybody, but...

MALORY (chuckling): Well... LANA: But... Hush. I have a

lot of pretty major expenses coming up, and since we haven't

been paid... (sighs) Look, I hate to ask, but

I need... MALORY: WIC!

LANA: What? MALORY: It's like welfare but

for babies. I don't know-- I'm not a

Democrat. But I think they give you a

birth cheese. I only had $200.

MALORY: Not you. Really? $200?

ARCHER: Okay, there's $200 for the uniforms, $100 for the

sweet wigs and another $300 for Kenny Loggins' room number.

HOUSEKEEPER: Mm-hmm. PAM: So, I'm curious-- why

didn't you just call Cherlene, who owns the hotel?

ARCHER: (sighs) And I'm curious-- why didn't you remind

me about that until just now? PAM: You said shut up,

J. Alfred Gotrocks. ARCHER: What?

PAM: We haven't been paid in forever.

Where are you getting all this money?

ARCHER: I, uh... sold some artwork?

CHERLENE: Goddamn it! What did I tell you about

staying up on the wall, ghosts?! ARCHER: Okay, since I am or

was a world-class secret agent, when we get up to his room, do

actually follow my lead or... PAM: Hang on, let me grab a

name tag. ARCHER: (gasps) Ruby! Ruby!

Is there a Ruby? See if there's a Ruby.

Is there a Ruby?! PAM: It's pretty close to

Ruby. ARCHER: No, Pam, it isn't.

PAM: Well, why do... ARCHER: Don't worry about it.

Let it go. And give me one of those mints.

PAM: Dude, they're cocaine. ARCHER: (sighs) Of course

they are. PAM: (laughs) Right?

ARCHER: All right, here's the penthouse.

Now, I cannot stress this enough, Pam: follow my lead.

PAM: Okay. ARCHER: Room ser...

PAM: Housekeeping! ARCHER: (clears throat) What

did I just... PAM: Prostitute!

(gasps, grunts) RICKY: What the hell is your

problem? PAM: Besides my face hurts?

KENNY LOGGINS: Why do I pay you 20 grand a month?

I don't want to read about Kenny Loggins; I want to read about

K-Log. (sighs) Jesus, don't ever get a

publicist. ARCHER: Well, as a lowly room

service waiter, I probably won't, but...

Wow. Okay, uh... KENNY LOGGINS: K-Log didn't

order room service. ARCHER: Sure, you did.

KENNY LOGGINS: No, I didn't. (crash, glass shatters)

(Pam grunting) ARCHER: A housekeeper and/or

prostitute? KENNY LOGGINS: You think

K-Log needs to pay for sex, do you?

ARCHER: Mm... no, but, that being said, I do think he needs

to reevaluate this whole K-Log thing.

KENNY LOGGINS: Oh, yeah? Well, I think you need to

reevaluate your face. ARCHER: My... Oh.

(chuckles) Okay. I can explain that.

KENNY LOGGINS: How? ARCHER: Uh...

- Lip chemo? - It's the crazy guy from the lobby!

Which means you're no prostitute.

And that being said,

I am open to blow jobs for money. I only got eight bucks on me,

but... ARCHER: Pam!

Self-esteem, buddy. Come on. Now, let's just put the gun down

and... RICKY: Mr. Loggins, please

advise. KENNY LOGGINS: K-Log.

K-Log, damn it. RICKY: Yeah, I'm kind of with

him on that one. KENNY LOGGINS: Oh, really?

So you agree with Borgnar's pathetic little errand boy?

ARCHER: Wait, what? And also who?

KENNY LOGGINS: Well, I'll tell you the same thing I told

Borgnar that night in Caracas. It's not for sale.

At any price. ARCHER: Who the hell is

Bor... (grunts) (gunshot, glass shatters)

(Pam shouts) (Ricky screams)

(gunshots) KENNY LOGGINS: Hi-yah!

(Archer grunts) Ricky, attack!

PAM (chuckling): Yeah, Ricky. (Ricky and Pam grunting)

(Ricky screams) ARCHER: Okay. Okay, good.

Pam, are you good? PAM (chuckling): Oh, yeah.

(Ricky and Pam roaring) (Ricky and Pam grunting)

ARCHER: Yeah, good, okay. 'Cause this time, I may actually

murder Kenny Loggins. PAM: Wait, wait, wait, wait,

wait! ARCHER: What, Pam?!

PAM: First see if he wants a beej.

(crashing, fighting) ARCHER: Loggins! Loggins!

Now, look, before either of us does something we'll both

regret, let's... (gunshots)

Okay, that's just unacceptable. Pam, I'm going in!

PAM: Okay! (both grunting)

(Archer grunts) (sniffing)

(coughs) ARCHER: Oh, wow, he really

likes the Paco Rabanne. (gasps)

KENNY LOGGINS: Tell Borgnar I'll see him in hell!

Wonder if it's too late to get Messina.

Holy shit. What kind of colossal idiot

would build a pool like that? CHERLENE: I just want to go

on record as saying that a glass swimming pool on

the penthouse balcony is, without a doubt,

the absolute worst idea that I have ever heard in my entire

goddamn life. But you're the men, so...

ARCHER: (chuckles) But can you imagine banging in

that thing? Why, yes, Archer, yes, I can.

KENNY LOGGINS: Drop it! (gun cocks)

Drop it on the ground. ARCHER: Do you know how bad

that is for it? I will place it on the ground,

but... KENNY LOGGINS: You think

K-Log won't shoot, punk? ARCHER: No, I think K-Log is

out of bullets. KENNY LOGGINS: What?

(gun clicks) How did you...

ARCHER: It's just a thing I do.

Now what the hell is in that briefcase?

KENNY LOGGINS: As if you don't know.

ARCHER: I honestly don't. KENNY LOGGINS: Liar.

ARCHER: (chuckles) Look, I put my weapon down, I'm not a

threat; how would I know what's in...?

RICKY: Aah! (Pam growling)

(Kenny Loggins grunts) ARCHER: Pam, no, no, no, no,

no, don't, no, don't... (gunshot)

KENNY LOGGINS: Shit. ARCHER: Ooh, okay.

So one of... (glass cracks)

One fairly predictable thing is gonna happen now, so...

KENNY LOGGINS: Aah! PAM and RICKY: Aah!

ARCHER: Loggins! (Loggins grunts)

ARCHER: Ooh. KENNY LOGGINS: (coughs) You

saved me. But why?

ARCHER: What do you mean why? (coughs)

I wanted you to play a baby shower. (coughs)

KENNY LOGGINS: Wait, what? ARCHER: The Dirty Diaper

game? Water guns shaped like dicks?

A baby shower. KENNY LOGGINS: Oh.

So, Borgnar? The briefcase? ARCHER: I don't know anyone

named Borgnar. And I don't want your crazy

briefcase. What the hell is even in that

thing? KENNY LOGGINS: Don't worry

about it. Just let it go.

ARCHER: I should let you go. KENNY LOGGINS: Look, I'm...

you know... ARCHER: Sorry?

KENNY LOGGINS: Mm, more just embarrassed.

Is there some way I can make this all up to you?

PAM: A beej! ARCHER: Pam!

And no, Kenny Loggins, there's no way to make up for almost

killing me over a briefcase full of what I can only assume

is either plutonium or a human soul.

(coughs) Although, that being said..

KENNY LOGGINS: (sighs) Yes. CHERLENE: Wow, snotty.

Okay, fine, so during the boring parts, just scream "outlaw

country." KENNY LOGGINS: Yeah,

absolutely not. CHERLENE: ♪ Revvin' up your

engine, listen to her howlin' roar... ♪

(Lana squeals) Ugh!

ALL: Happy baby shower! (cork pops)

LANA: Oh, my God, you guys. KRIEGER: Me first, here!

It's a breast pump. Go ahead and use it now if you

want. LANA: I do not want, Krieger,

but thank you. Aw, and thank you, Pam.

PAM: It's cocaine! LANA: Oh, of course it is.

And also, what the hell happened to you?

PAM: This big bastard. LANA: What big...?

Whoa. RICKY: Uh, hi.

Um, this is a car seat. GILLETTE: Wha...

Goddamn it! This whole stupid baby shower

was my idea! (sobbing) CHERLENE/LOGGINS: ♪ Highway

to the danger zone KENNY LOGGINS: ♪ I'll take

you right into the danger zone... ♪

CYRIL: Here. LANA: Oh, wow, a check.

For $80. CYRIL: Please take me back.

LANA: Aw, Cyril. Who's next?

MALORY: Well, I suppose me. And all of this.

It's a layette. Onesies, binkies,

itty bitty booties, blah blah blah.

From baby Bergdorf's. LANA: Oh, my God, it must've

been a fortune. MALORY: Well, I can afford

it. Apparently, Krieger's online

pharmacy is going gangbusters, so...

WOODHOUSE: Pardon me, mum. This was delivered for

Dr. Krieger. KRIEGER: What...?

Not now, you shriveled... MALORY: Wait a minute.

That's the cocaine. So this whole thing was just a

sham? KRIEGER: Well, only if by

"sham" you mean "sham." MALORY: (growls) Krieger!

KRIEGER: Aah! But you were temporarily so happy!

CYRIL: Krieger, get back here!

PAM: Yay! KENNY LOGGINS: ♪ You'll never

say hello to you until you get it on red line overload ♪

CHERLENE: ♪ You'll never know what you can do until you get it

up as high as you can ♪ CHERLENE/LOGGINS: ♪ Go...

LANA: Wow. This baby shower actually went

a lot better than I would've imagined.

ARCHER: Right? LANA: And what happened to

you? ARCHER: Your present, Lana,

is what happened. LANA: And it's...

where, exactly? crib!

Uh, which I want you to have for the baby.

LANA: (gasps) Archer. ARCHER: Because you're

important to me, so I made Woodhouse get it from Mother's

storage unit, because I own him. LANA: Archer. (sniffles)

Archer, that is the sweetest thing anybody has ever given me,

ever. ARCHER: Well, yeah.

But, I mean, the big present, obviously, is, uh...

"Danger Zone." LANA: "Danger Zone."

ARCHER: The... Lana, the song.

CHERLENE/LOGGINS: ♪ Highway to the danger zone

Right into the danger zone... Ooh... ♪

LANA: Oh. Oh, okay.

ARCHER: "Danger Zone," Lana. You know, how I'm always saying

"danger zone"? LANA: Uh, kinda?

Yes? ARCHER: Well...

LANA: It's from a song? ARCHER: Yes, it's from a

song! Recorded by Grammy winner and

possible Faustian bargain-maker Kenny goddamn Loggins!

LANA: (chuckles) Okay, calm down.

So who's Beard Guy? ARCHER: (scoffs) Are you...?

That's Kenny Loggins! LANA: (gasps)

From Kenny Loggins Roasters?

Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com